Imogen
by xoxomtmodnarxoxo
Summary: Imogen Rose is struggling with life: With bills to pay, suspicious teachers, and a sick mother to attend to, Imogen struggles to see the light. There is nothing else she can do... except contact one Mobian. Rated 'T' for one use of strong language.


**Hey guys! Here's a special one-shot that's been lurking in my mind during my writer's block for 'The Memoirs Of Amy Rose'. This fic is dedicated to a close friend of mine.**

**A/N: Imogen is an OC. All other characters mentioned in this one-shot belong to SEGA.**

**~Xoxomtmodnarxoxo**

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_Dear…_

… _Dear…_

_Oh, this is stupid! Who am I kidding? Not you. Not even me. I've been building up the courage all day to write to you, but now that I'm sitting on my bed with my writing pad and chewing at the end of my pen… I don't know what to write._

_Well, I do__ have a main** idea** what to write but I just don't know how to put it down on paper. You see, I'm scared. Very scared. Which is why I'm writing to you; because I need your help._

_Well, here it goes._

_I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Imogen, and I'm fourteen years old. I was born out of wedlock so technically I am a bastard. Don't worry, I don't mind. I live with my Mom, Amy Rose, in Station Square in an apartment, on the third floor. As far as I know, I __**do**__ have a Dad. His name is Sonic Hedgehog, and he was seen as a hero years ago. I don't hear a lot about him now, not that I want to, anyway. He may seem like God's gift to Mobius, but to me he's a selfish blue hedgehog who just ditched us and left us to suffer realities of life on our own. I'm sorry, but that's just how I feel. I'm not a blue nor a pink hedgehog; I'm a lilac-coloured hedgehog with jade-coloured eyes, but I think I look more like Mom. Mom once told me that Dad was the most handsome guy she had ever met, and that she fell madly in love with him at first sight. He apparently loved me, too, but he was too busy to see me all of the time and this made him very sad. That tale worked until I turned ten years old and learned the real truth behind the situation; Dad had slept with Mom and left before she could tell him that she fell pregnant with me. But we've lived life without Dad for years. Mom told me that we didn't __**need**__ a father figure in our lives; we were happy just the way things were…_

_However, things turned for the worst. Mom was then diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when I was eleven and a half. Multiple Sclerosis is known as a progressive illness, and there is no known cure for it. She seemed okay at the beginning; Mom was just exhausted and sad the majority of the time. We spent most of our free time lounging in front of the television watching shows and films, Mom drank endless glasses of wine whereas I sipped endless cups of apple juice to keep her company. But as the years went by, things got worse. Much worse. Mom eventually ended up in a wheelchair because she had problems with her balance and then her legs stopped functioning properly. It's difficult because Mom had to give up her job working in a café and spent most of her time hidden in our apartment, and she has limited space to move about because our apartment is small. It's difficult for me, too, because now I'm at school and Mom's full-time carer at the same time. _

_It's a real drag: On a normal school day I get up at 6am to get Mom's breakfast ready (toast and tea). Whilst the breakfast is being made, I help change Mom's incontinence pad and then collect her breakfast for her. I then sit her down on the sofa with her breakfast and get ready for school myself. Before I leave, I re-check that Mom will be okay until lunchtime and then dash to the school at the end of the street. Once it's lunchtime, I run back home to make Mom her lunch and then run back to school for afternoon lessons. Once school has finished, I run back home (exhausted by this point) and assist Mom with anything that needs to be done. I then sit her down in front of the television whilst I cook dinner and then tackle my chores. And this is all in one __**day**__. _

_I feel mean; I'm not always on my own. Auntie Cream and Uncle Tails come to help as much as possible, but sometimes it's just not enough. It depends what mood Mom's in. Most days she'll be co-operative. Other days she'll park herself beside the window and stare outside for hours on end. She doesn't bother speaking to any of us when she's doing this. I can't blame her, really._

_I do help Mom as much as possible, but only rarely do I blame her for having the illness in the first place. It can be so unfair, I mean, I'm suppose to be out with my friends, trying on clothes, putting on make-up, giggling at boys… and, yet, I'm stuck at home looking after Mom instead. I'm scared what will happen when I leave school. I want to go to college and study journalism, but I'm scared that Mom will get so bad that I'll have to stay at home full-time to help her out. Besides, I have trouble keeping up with my schoolwork as it is. I might have to leave school the first chance I get and find a job so that I can provide money to pay for Mom's medical bills and be there for her when she needs me. Auntie Cream and Uncle Tails help out as much as possible; Auntie Cream helps with the laundry and the shopping whereas Uncle Tails helps to fix any broken appliances and pay bills but even they have their own lives to lead. It's unfair that we're asking them to help the majority of the time. Auntie Cream has just found out that she's expecting, and I want to prevent her from doing too much around the house... after all, she needs rest, too. _

_Of course, it's not going to be easy. Living with MS is never easy, but of course you wouldn't know that unless you saw what Mom goes through herself every single day. Which is why I'm asking for help. Not financial, but emotional support. I hope I've stressed to you how difficult life has been since you left. I hope you'll come to your senses and reconsider now that life for me has become much scarier than before; I've learned that my teachers at school have had a staff meeting about my progress in class, since I'm failing subjects and forgetting to do homework, and I'm so scared that Social Services will interfere and put me in care and put Mom in a separate care home. In addition, the apartment is messy, Mom's depressed and is always crying, I'm constantly stressed, and I feel sick every time I hear the mail slip through the letterbox, knowing that they will be more bills. I actually broke down in tears the other day. I thought I would be able to handle everything, but it's obvious that I can't. I can't bear it. I'm only a child… I need help._

_I'm scared. I'm frightened..._

_Uncle Tails gave me your address, I hope you don't mind. I know you've never visited us before. I know that you never even knew that I existed. I know that we **do **have a lot of catching-up to do. I know that it's been years since you've spoken to Uncle Tails or Auntie Cream... but I do hope you visit us at some point; it would be lovely. For Mom. Hopefully you'll encourage her to smile once more._

_Come and visit us whenever you can, Dad._

_Godspeed._

_With love,_

_Your daughter, Imogen Rose._


End file.
